How John Summit Found Balance on His New Album ‘Comfort in Chaos’

John Summit can’t resist a DJ deck. Last week, the Chicago-raised producer went on a well-deserved two-day break in Los Angeles before jet-setting into Canada to play Badlands Music Festival, returning to L.A. for his Comfort in Chaos album-release party and then DJ’ing a Las Vegas pool party before the end of the week. The 29-year-old musician, who boasts top-tier status on several major airlines, says he’s grown accustomed to flying 24/7 and booking flights the day of.

“If you want me to not DJ, you got to send me off to the wilderness with no electricity,” Summit tells Rolling Stone. “If there’s electricity, I’ll find a way.”

During what was intended to be a three-day vacation in the Hamptons in early July, Summit found himself commanding the decks again at the Surf Lodge, a hotel and music venue. “I’m like ‘I’m just going to get a drink,’ and before you know it, I’m doing a back-to-back with Alesso.”

Within the past several years, Summit has become one of the most in-demand DJs around. Amid the global lockdown in June 2020, Summit released “Deep End,” a hypnotic club track that pulls from R&B singer Fousheé’s viral tune of the same name. Two years later, Summit released a remix to Kx5’s hit single “Escape” with British singer Hayla, and later collaborated with the singer for “Where You Are” a vocal-driven track that’s become a festival circuit favorite. 

Summit’s debut album, Comfort in Chaos, which was released Friday, draws inspiration from Jamie XX’s fusion of moody ballads and dance-floor bangers from In Color, DeadMau5’s progressive house flavor, and Summit’s own “bread ‘n’ butter” tech house. (Summit previewed his 12-track album during a five-hour sold-out set at Madison Square Guardian on June 29.) Comfort in Chaos, which features artwork by Puerto Rican artist Marcos Alvarado, is a culmination of emotive, ethereal songs like “Comfort in Chaos” and “Stay with Me,” along with bass-heavy, anthemic tracks like “Eat the Bass” and “Resonate.” 

Rolling Stone spoke with Summit about his decision to play fewer festival shows, where he finds comfort amid the chaos, and crafting his most vulnerable work to date. 

You’ve described this as one of your most vulnerable works to date. Tell me more about that. 
I originally started off writing party music and the party, drug references; stuff you hear in clubs. My songwriting then was based in the clubs and a hedonistic lifestyle, where now I feel like I’ve gotten older and more comfortable with my feelings, sharing myself, and having a little bit more confidence in general. Writing songs that go from “Tears,” which talks about heartbreak, and then you go all the way to ‘Palm of My Hands’ with Venbee, which is being confident and taking on the world — it’s a cool range of emotions that past-me never would have done. 

Do you prefer to play festivals or your record label, Experts Only, events?
I prefer doing my own label shows because I can fully curate the lineup with people who I just love as artists and friends. 

You go to a festival, every artist is in their own trailer or greenroom. It’s awkward. We’re at my festival, we have just one combined tent in the middle where everyone can hang out. I like doing community things, but I do like doing these big grand shows from time to time. I’m just a nerd at heart and so is my team, and we love doing the crazy lighting displays and the visuals. It feels like a giant art gallery. 

What do you mean art gallery? 
Madison Square Garden, for example, they just give you the arena. They don’t give you any production. They don’t give you anything, so you’re given a blank canvas to totally build up your own design and the lighting and everything.

What was it like playing for a sold-out Madison Square Garden audience?
I did five hours at MSG, then I did three hours at the [Brooklyn] Navy Yard. So I did eight hours that night, and I only had like an hour and a half in between. You’d think that after a five-hour MSG performance, I crushed it, I’d be like high-fiving and saying thanks, and everyone’s, like, congrats or whatever. But in reality, I got in the car and got ready to go straight to the afterparty. 

I mean, it’s a dream to play sold-out shows, but I feel this ties into your album title Comfort in Chaos. How did you feel playing Madison Square Garden?
That was really tough. After I got off MSG, I was so spent. And I was like, ‘I need a nap,’ but everyone’s going crazy around me. You can ask my team, I was dead in the car on the way [to the Brooklyn Navy Yard ]. I’m like, ‘I can’t do this. I can’t do this,’ and then as soon as I got onstage, I just had the craziest adrenaline rush. There’s everyone backstage with me at Navy Yard, and the whole crowd is going nuts. That’s the whole concept, the comfort and chaos is the highs and lows. But yeah, I love it.

Do you drink Red Bull at least?
No, I don’t. I don’t like drinking caffeine because it makes me shaky. I’m like an energizer bunny, where I actually don’t have that much energy outside of clubs and festivals and stuff. I’m a receiver, I guess is what I mean. 

Some people walk into a room and there are the ones that get everyone going. That’s what the crowd does to me.

When you visited the office last month, you mentioned you were a Grateful Dead fan.
In college, I painted my door [with] all Grateful Dead visuals. It’s funny, though, because I don’t even know their songs that well, but what I loved is that it [was] perfectly free-form, and everything flows through each other. I got out of my jam phase, and that’s when I found house and techno. We’re hearing a set that goes on for four hours straight, and you can’t even name a single song, but it’s all awesome.

You just said you used to go to four-hour sets, and although you might know two or three songs, you don’t know most of the tracks. How do you grapple with people who know your name, but not necessarily your face or all of your music?
I really preferred that for a while because I would do — when I say ‘I would do,’ the last time I did this was, like, nine months ago, so I still do — eight- to 10-hour sets at [Miami nightclub] Club Space. I would play the first three or four hours without playing a single one of my own records. I’d go to 3 p.m. At like 7, or 8 a.m., I would play the ‘Sun Came Up’ or ‘Where You Are,’ and the whole place would erupt. So I think that’s really cool to do sets like that and you get the fans stuck in a trance. 

I remember in 2020, it was like a private party that Club Space threw where everyone had to hide their phones and stuff, but [singer-songwriter and guitarist] Solomon did a 24-hour set. I didn’t know a single song and I’m like, ‘That was one of the best nights ever.’

You’ve been living in Miami for less than two years. What do you do to reset?
I’m home 10 percent of the time. I do have a very good friend group down there, which is awesome. Then I have a few of my go-to spots, like the Standard Spas is my favorite spot. It’s on the Venetian Islands. It’s the best spa; it feels like it’s a little resort. When I need to fully decompress, I go there. People think like, ‘Oh, you live in Miami, you must be going out, blah, blah, blah.’ When I’m home, I’m the most chill, zen person ever.

When you visited the Rolling Stone office, you mentioned something about scaling down and performing less. Is that true, and if so, why?
It’s true. The less I do, the more time I have to work on a show. As soon as I feel like I’m going through the motions, and that’s what I felt like last year, my quality of music and sets kind of deteriorate. It feels like you’re in an office job in a cubicle. 

It’s like going from a sitcom actor to doing feature films. That’s how it feels like going from clubs to doing these big events. What’s nice though, too, is if I take a while, like a few weeks off, and I have the itch to play a club, I don’t think there’s many clubs that will deny me if I show up and be like, ‘Hey, can I hop on?’